Well, i've started writing a sci-fi story, and here's the prologue and first chapter. when i finish planning i'll post the story chapter by chapter. let me know what you think!!

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
????? Squad
>SC-375 Sgt. Michael Moore
>SC-211 Pvt. Patrick O’Brien
>SC-101 Pvt. Jacob “Jack”, “JJ” Johnston
>SC-486 Pvt. Jason “Jace” Manning
>SC-314 Pvt. Ryan Anderson
>SC-23 Pvt. Richard Toney
Fleet
Cmd. William Kados
Prologue
Setting: Earth, 4173 A.D.
--Earth is the Capital of an interspacial empire, the United Republic of Humans. Hundreds of planets throughout the galaxy have been colonized, a feat once thought mere fantasy. Thousands of starships flow to and from Earth, bearing passengers, foodstuffs, and exotic items only the shining examples humanity can afford. On numerous planets, trade abounds, wealth is always changing hands, and peace reigns. Rebellion is unheard of, and Earth and its offspring are safe.

But some people don’t think so.

For 1500 years, the Guardians of Earth And the Republic has remained vigilant. For 1500 years, GEAR has refused to drop its guard. And content, peaceful citizens wonder, “Why?”

Because the very thing that started all of this, that put into motion the wheels of this great enterprise of human might and ingenuity, could spell their doom.

The year was 2609. The world was under the control of two factions: the Free Republic, which had once been Europe, the Americas, Australia, and Africa; and the Confederation, which consisted of the former Asian and Middle Eastern countries. Earth was populated by over 10 billion people. The Mars colony had over 200 million inhabitants, and a populated space station orbited Saturn.

And then it arrived.

“It” would change everything about the way humans lived.

“It” was discovered by a satellite maintenance worker in a small, one-person shuttle. He stumbled on a strange looking ship, floating aimlessly through space, and he excitedly notified the nearest Republic military vessel. After scanning it, they sent a boarding party. What the heavily armed and highly apprehensive group found, was bones. Bones of a species other than human. “It” was an alien vessel.

The real discovery was not in the bones, but in the ship, behind a hatch covered in unintelligible runes. Opening it, scientist discovered the ship’s propulsion unit. An engine of such complexity that it took them months to understand how it worked and what it did. And the answer shocked them.

It was a faster-than-light engine.

This was a concept that scientists had tried for hundreds of years to create, and now they had a working model that they could study and replicate.

An announcement was made, and a union of the Confederacy and the Free Republic was formed.

Thus the United Republic of Humans was born.

Within 100 years, there were a dozen colonized planets. Within 200, there were a dozen colonized systems. By the year 4000, most people had forgotten about the strange alien ship and what it held. But GEAR had not forgotten. And since they needed government funding for their warships, they made sure the government didn’t either.

So GEAR watched.

And what they saw was….peace. Fifteen-hundred years of uninterrupted tranquility. The galaxy was at peace.

Peace is a lie.

A new colony on Matrix 4 had been established for several weeks. Then all contact with it ceased. Days later, the entire Matrix system was silent. GEAR’s worst fears were confirmed when a lone picket ship, battered and scarred, limped into the nearby Chelsar system. The crew had holographic recordings that showed a massive space fleet crush the Guardian warships in the system. Then, the invaders turned their guns on the helpless colonists of Matrix 1, destroying them utterly.

Once GEAR saw the survivor’s information, they immediately deployed a large battle fleet, including three new Leviathan-class heavy cruisers. GEAR’s top brass was certain. They would be vindicated, and their centuries of vigilance would pay off. The fleet was ordered into the Matrix system.

No one ever heard from it again.

The aliens conquered the Charlax, Bell, and Cornett systems in rapid succession. GEAR knew nothing about these fierce interlopers, except that they were well armed, well organized, and very powerful.

The bones found aboard the alien vessel, found hundreds of years before, gave them some clues.

Based on the body structure, they were bipedal creatures, standing at just over two meters in height, and each limb had six digits, each tipped with a wicked claw. The tail was 1.5 meters in length. The skull was the most frightening; reptilian, with a long, narrow jaw.

A jaw filled with teeth. Teeth that made those of a 30-foot long Meltese shark, found on Nitronous Minor, look like Grandma’s gums.

They were rows of razor-sharp teeth, dozens of them, made for the ripping and tearing of the soft flesh of rodents and other small animals.

Or the soft, vulnerable flesh of humans, as discovered the terrified settlers on Zilfor Prime. And as seen by horrified viewers of a holo taken by a minor GEAR clerk, moment s before his death.

It was all strictly classified, of course.

Of course, those horrified viewers of the gruesome holo, who staggered out of the room to throw up, were also GEAR’s top generals and strategists.

And, of course, they had to do something. And they would.

If only they knew what to do.

Because for the first time in GEAR’s long history, they were facing an utterly ruthless enemy that had no qualms about killing innocents and children. More than that, they enjoyed it.

A vicious, unimaginable enemy with no apparent weaknesses.

These (need name), as they came to be called, captured nearly have a dozen systems in less than two weeks. They’d defeated some of GEAR’s finest. Committed atrocious crimes. They had to be stopped. It wasn’t a matter of pride, or revenge. It wasn’t a matter of saving face, or even proving who was boss.

It was a matter of survival. Survival for the entire human race.

GEAR knew it of course. But they wished they knew more about the enemy.

What they didn’t know would fill a star system.

The invaders true name, what they called themselves, was the Bel’zar. Their home world, in the spiral arm of this galaxy farthest from Earth, was Par’kelnowa, meaning “Den among the Stars” in their tongue. They were an ancient race, having mastered space flight in their own system when humans were still grunting and living in caves.

But they were not born into our galaxy in space craft. They evolved from 4-foot long omnivorous lizards that walked on four legs. Their intelligence grew, and so did their stature. They began walking on two legs, and developed crude tools and weapons. But as their intelligence grew, so did their lust for blood. So they evolved into brutal and cruel predators.

It was the runts, the outcasts that changed their history. These were a different breed, more intelligent, with a larger cranium. But their increased brainpower came at a price; they were undersized and unaggressive, and in a primitive society whose hierarchy was determined by size and viciousness, they were shunned, enslaved, and even killed for sport. But when these outcasts used their advanced intelligence, they began to invent things, and their importance grew. The biggest, most ruthless still lead, but this second breed became advisors and scientists. One millennium later, after never-ending inventions and innovations, they achieved space flight in their own system, and, after the invention of the faster-than-light engine, the galaxy.

They spread slowly, until they inhabited several star systems. But the stars in the systems they called home were old, and they began failing, killing many through the changes and destruction these changes wrought. The surviving Bel’zar fled to far away star systems, where they flourished once again.

The ship that was found by the lowly maintenance worker was a supply ship heading for a distant colony. It suffered an air leak when a small rock of cosmic matter punctured their cockpit canopy, killing all inside. It was not missed, because such accidents were common. Because of this ship, human civilization expanded into the cosmos. Both civilizations grew outward, and, for the most part, were blissfully unaware of each other.

Then they collided.

It wasn’t totally unexpected. GEAR had been alert to this danger since the moment of its conception. The Bel’zar had discovered the presence of other sentients about twenty years before, when a large ship full of banished criminals and violent dissidents from all over the Republic arrived in one of their systems. Though caught off-guard, they immediately destroyed the vessel. Then they reacted as any primitive predator does when it finds a competitor.

They attacked.

It was sudden and ruthless, and even GEAR was caught flat-footed.

Then they were backpedalling, scrabbling frantically for an anchor to hold onto and a weapon with which to stave off this relentless attack.

They found both at the same time.

The planet Korag was the perfect place for a military base; it was cloudy and mountainous, with plenty of extinct volcanoes and underground caverns that could easily be turned into impregnable fortresses.

Or hidden training facilities and weapons labs.

None of that’s hypothetical; there are impregnable bases. And hidden facilities and weapons labs. What was occurring deep in these mountains and caverns? That was classified information, and only known by a very few people. These people knew of the weapons, armor, and ships being developed.

And of the troops being trained and tested to become the elite soldiers necessary to prevent humanity’s total extinction

Five hundred of the best soldiers GEAR had to offer, drawn from varying branches of the military, were sent to Korag to be trained and tested. Most were as good as GEAR could have hoped for: skilled soldiers, who were tougher, braver, and smarter than any of their comrades. A few were better than GEAR’s hopes.

But six….six exceeded everyone’s highest expectations. They not only completed every task or test set before them, but they far surpassed the norm and set records only another of the six could possibly beat.

They were put into strict training, taught everything known about the enemy. Military research and tech labs immediately set to work designing and creating the tools that they would need to defeat the enemy.

Why all this effort for these six men?

Because they weren’t regular men to be wasted on the battlefield, whether in the terrifying confusion of ground combat or in the terrible, twisted beauty of space combat. These were elite commandos, trained for impossible, insane missions.

The best of the best, warriors of such skill and intelligence that only a few humans ever born could have matched them. Their fighting instincts and bravery was un-paralleled; none of the other candidates came even close to their level. They seemed to have been born to fight these invaders.

And the Republic needed them. GEAR needed them. Because the impossible, insane missions they were trained for, they were nothing compared to what they’d be called to do. The weight of humanity’s survival rested on their shoulders.

So they trained, and then they donned their armor and geared up for the coming conflict.


Chapter 1: Into the Fire

Commander William Kados managed to keep his expression neutral as he gazed at the faceless soldiers in front of him. Six frightening visages stared back at him, identical in every aspect. Their imposing body armor was likewise matching. He hated to send men into such dangerous situations, but he had to. It was his duty.

And besides—it was the only way, as he knew all too well.

He cleared his throat, then gestured at the holoscreen. Another fascination bit of technology found aboard the alien vessel.

“Greetings men. You are here to learn about your coming mission. After months of intelligence probes and at the loss of many lives, we have made an important discovery. We have located the enemy’s primary forward base and shipyard.”

“This is an opportunity to strike at their heart, cold as it may be, and to deliver a crushing blow. In an unnamed system, codenamed “Prime Opportunity”, they have developed a command post and a large shipyard.”

“That is our target. If our attack succeeds, their attacking power will be severely damaged.”

“It will be heavily defended, so a straightforward strike is out of the airlock.” He looked at their grim masks. “That is where you come in.”

“A diversionary assault on the day side of the planet will give your stealth craft a chance to slip in unnoticed, on the night side. You will work your way to their main base, where you will lay charges on the barracks and hangar, then you will proceed to the shipyard. After taking out your primary objectives, you will make tracks back to your ship and leave under the cover of another assault, as well as with a guard of several ships. Use stealth wherever possible, and keep your wits about you at all times. Are you clear on your mission?”

“Yes, sir!” said six voices.

“Dismissed.”

They stood as one man, filed up, and trooped out.

As Commander Kados watched them leave, he thought. He disliked all of this, but knew that if anyone could save the human race, they could.

. . .

Sergeant Michael Moore sat quietly, listening to the light humming of the ships engines. He sat in the middle seat of a row of three. There were two men ahead of him, and one more, the pilot, in the seat in front of them. To the left of him was Patrick O’Brien, a Private. O’Brien was a native of Earth, from the area once known as Europe. His close-cut shock of flame red hair betrayed his origins; his large family hailed from Ireland. He was slightly below average size, but still a fierce fighter.

To Moore’s right was Ryan Anderson, a hulking man from Columbus system. He was easily two meters in height, and he weighed around 125 kilos. Though quiet, he had a presence of strength that spoke volumes. He had dark skin, suggesting his descendents had come from the ancient Earth territory of Africa. Moore remembered reading that once, over two thousand years earlier, there had been much racial hatred on the part of humans with lighter skin; they had even enslaved and killed their dark-skinned brothers. He wondered at how irrational it was, to hate simply based on the color of someone’s skin. Anderson was their demolitions man. He liked bombs, and was one of the best at what he did.

The man ahead of him, to his right, Jacob Johnston, called Jack or JJ by his friends, was also from Earth, from the part of North America that had once been Texas. He was of average height and weight, with brown hair, cut to military shortness. Moore’s eyes fell upon the Airborne emblem on Jack’s shoulder; he had once been a member of the elite Airborne soldiers, the SpaceDivers. These commandos, using special armor, dropped from space onto a planet, then proceeded accomplish whatever task they had been assigned.

To JJ’s left was Richard Toney, a native of the Alexandria system. Toney was also average size, and had black hair. He was a bit reserved, but still a nice guy, and an excellent soldier. More than an excellent soldier, as they all were; he had been a sniper with the 218th Army Ranger Battalion, elite troops were inserted via land, sea, or air. He wore the Ranger Tab on his shoulder armor as well.


Finally, in the very front, there was Jason Manning, who went by Jace. He was the pilot, and had served with the Marine Elites. He would fly his troop ship in, then get out and fight on foot. He claimed he could fly anything that could, which was in keeping with his usual hot air. He was blond, and good looking, something he always jokingly boasted about. He claimed the role of Comic Relief Specialist, and was always friendly, smiling and cracking jokes. Except when it came to actually fighting the Bel’zar. Then he was grim as the grave, and became just that to all the invaders he met in battle. He came from the Charlax system, one of the first to be conquered by the Bel’zar, and his family had been at their tender mercies. He was serious about little else.

Moore himself came from the Sirius system. He had dirty blond hair, and was about average height. He, as the leader of his men, had to remain slightly aloof, but he was still open and friendly. He had been drawn from a secretive group of the military, the Black Commandos, nicknamed the Unmentionables, because nothing was ever spoken about them. What they did was highly secret, and often sensitive work; it left its marks on every soldier to ever serve in it. There were times he just had to be alone.

As he reviewed his troops, Moore noted what they were doing. Jace was consumed with the task of prepping the ship for their mission. O’Brien was resting, with his head leaned back against the bulkhead behind him. Jack was polishing the bayonet that ejected from the dangerous end of their laser rifles. Anderson was checking his explosives and door charges, inventorying them; they were vital to the success of this mission. Lastly, Toney was calibrating his sniper scope, setting it on a distance of a hundred meters, the distance it would be most likely used at.

Seeing his men checking their gear prompted Moore to do so himself. His twenty-five kilo pack might have seemed a little light for their mission, but they needed to move fast and light, and a heavy pack would only slow them down. His primary weapon, a Lansing Multi-Use Laser Rifle, had a reflex sight for quick aiming, a twenty-centimeter long ejectable bayonet, an anti-armor/anti-infantry grenade launcher, a flashlight on the side, and of course, a rapid-firing laser rifle muzzle. The rifle was light but sturdy, and could withstand the beating it would take in the rigors of combat, and could fine in semi-auto, fully-auto, and 3- or 5-shot bursts. In his pack was also a scope for sniping, with an effective range of up to a kilometer. He couldn’t snipe very accurately at targets a klicks distance away, but Toney could.

On his hip he had his sidearm, a Lansing Flash-17. He also had various other grenades on his ammo belt, as well as more, plus basic explosives, in his pack. Compressed rations, designed for nutrition, not taste, were also in his pack, and a few in belt pouches. Medical supplies such as painkillers, anesthetics, disinfectants, bandages, and other medical items were divided between his belt and his pack. Some long-distance military-grade binoculars were also stowed away in his pack. He had tools for maintaining and cleaning his gear, starting a fire, and even trapping and catching animals. There were three long-range communications units spread throughout the unit; one of these would be used to call in the covering attack.

The remaining spaces on his belt were given over to extra rounds for his rifle. He would likely need to reload in a hurry, something he’d drilled for hours to do, and when he ran out of belt ammo, he had more in his pack. He also had several canteens and a water purifying unit in his pack.

His armor was ___________ III armor, rated to stop a wide range of lethal weaponry. It could stop most projectile weapons, infantry lasers, and knives, or in the case of the Bel’zar, claws. It was matte black, and a little bulkier than a normal soldier’s armor, but a Super-Commando rated both bigger and better. His Heads-Up-Display was also more advanced; it was crammed with infrared and night vision filters, communications gear, suit integrity updates, a three-hundred and sixty degree view, sighting systems, and more. He could access information on the weather, temperature, maps, and more, all with either verbal or retinal commands. No one watching him would know he was even doing anything. The only part of his armor that wasn’t black was his visor. It was silver, but could change its color to black; even totally opaque, he could still see using a multitude of exterior micro-cameras that studded his helmet’s perimeter.

Everything was in working order. He’d already gone over his equipment, disassembled and reassembled his weapons, placed important things he would need in strategic locations designed to allow speedy access even before they set out. He was ready. He settled back to wait.

. . .

In the back of the ship, Moore awoke with as the ship shuddered slightly as it emerged from hyperspace. They were over the target planet. Jace immediately switched over to compressed gas propulsion, so that they could move without showing their position as they moved over their target. For a minute or two, he could watch the flashes of light that indicated the battle, kilometers away, that was the cover for their insertion. He saw an explosion amongst the Republic’s ships, and murmured quiet thanks to the brave men who were dying to give _________ Squad a chance to slip in unnoticed. Then he brought his full attention to getting their stealth ship over the insertion point. If he didn’t get the ship into the right area before beginning their descent—their very rapid descent—it would put them in a poor position for their mission; either too close or too could spell disaster for their mission, and he’d only have one chance. Big deal, he thought. I could do this with my eyes closed. It was a simple drop; he’d done it countless times in training and even in a few real missions. But we never had such a need for secrecy. Nor did we ever have so much riding on our success. Best not to think about that, he knew. Focus on the task at hand.

Their target zone for landing was only a kilometer square, about twenty kilometers from their target. Any closer and they’d be detected before they even landed. Even so, they stood a chance of being detected; they didn’t know how good the Bel’zar’s sensor capabilities were. So the top brass picked a distance they thought would be safe. Of course, it wasn’t their necks on the line, but that was that.

Also, the top brass informed them, as nicely as possible, that they couldn’t screw up. Because the survival of the entire human race depended on them. No pressure, right? Wrong, he thought wryly. But the pressure didn’t matter much, not to them. They’d all been trained well, to the point where much of what they did was instinctive. They were the best soldiers GEAR had to offer; they were some of the best soldiers in history. He often wondered if he was born to fight. Well, if he was, he would put everything he had into fulfilling his destiny. No, the pressure wouldn’t hurt them. Ordinary men would freeze up; they’d panic or breakdown. The fact that humanity’s survival rested on their shoulders would help them. It would make them fight harder against the Bel’zar.

The Bel’zar. Jace’s hands instinctively tightened on the pilots yoke at the thought of them, as if he was throttling one of the invaders. He smiled. I did that too, once. He’d found an injure Bel’zar and had choked the life out of, exacting a small part of the vengeance he had promised his family, butchered by the Bel’zar. Primitives. Desecrators. He would never stop fighting them, until every last one of them was driven out; he’d fight to prevent the slaughter of other innocents. To save others from pain.

Perhaps that was why they’d chosen him, over the hundreds of other soldiers tested. At least, in part. So he would never give up. Never stop fighting. The top brass might be sly and manipulative beings, but they weren’t dumb. And they were right. He’d never give up.

Suddenly, he became aware of a persistent beeping sound coming from the controls. He scanned the readouts, and determined that they were at the right coordinates to begin their descent. He then oriented the ship at the right angle for atmospheric entry, and fired the top thrusters to begin their descent.

Then gravity took them, and they dropped.

Chapter 2: The Plunge

Falling, falling, falling. There’s nothing like the feeling of plummeting through the atmosphere, with no control of what will happen to you in the next few seconds? minutes? hours? When in virtual freefall, time leaves the bounds of reason, and becomes something wild and free. You never can tell how long it takes you to reach the ground.

Jace loved that feeling; it’s a feeling only a man who is a pilot at heart can fully appreciate. For once, he is not in control; he is controlled by the wild and untamed forces of nature. It reminds him of his place in the galaxy. I am but an ant, that can be swept aside by forces that have reigned supreme since before time began. Perhaps the galaxy had seen many ancient species come and go, vanquished by either time, invaders, or nature itself had overcome them. Not us, he vowed. We will not be defeated until we have made our mark on the galaxy. Neither nature nor invader shall prevail over our race. Perhaps time itself will wear us down, but not until the human race has done more than any other species to come before them. Not if we can help it. Not if I can help it.

But he’d be no good to the human race dead, and that’s what he and the rest of his team would be if he didn’t slow their descent immediately. He slowly increased the output of the underside air-jets, leveling them off and slowing them to a hover, just thirty feet from the ground. Like the hotshot pilot that he was, he cut all thrust, then reengaged it at the last moment, halting them a mere six inches from the ground. Then he dropped them the last bit to end their descent. He threw a switch to lower the boarding ramp.

“Welcome, honored guests, to the lush planet we have now arrived on. Please, enjoy your stay. This peaceful planet is invested with vicious Bel’zar, which would normally offset any tourists thinking of a vacation here. But you fine gentlemen seem interested in a spot of lizard hunting, so if you’ll follow me, we’ll get started.”

Sergeant Moore just shook his head. Well, it was good at least one of them could make light about this mission. Because he sure couldn’t.

. . .


After covering their drop ship in camouflage netting, and throwing in some native foliage, they set off. They traveled in two groups of three, in order to lessen the chances of them all being caught; they could travel faster and were less likely to be detected if they traveled in two groups, only fifty yards apart. But because they all had a built in GPS of the planet, they could pick a spot and rendezvous there, without having to communicate at all. Also, if one group was ambushed and killed, then the others could still complete the mission, albeit difficultly. Another bonus was that while they couldn’t all be wiped out, but if one group was attacked, the other could respond quickly and effectively, ambushing the ambushers, as it were. So this was the plan of travel they decided on.

Thus they traveled, separated but linked. They couldn’t communicate outside of fifteen meters on normal channels, but using older radio technology, they could easily communicate up to the fifty yard distance separating them. The reason for such restriction was that if they communicated much farther, they ran a high risk of being detected. Radio was safer, but there was still a chance that they would be detected. So long-range communications were limited to short bursts or emergencies, when possible.

For hours they traveled, with Moore, Toney, and Jack in one group; and Jace, Anderson, and O’Brien in the other. They wondered at the beauty of this world they were on, for it was one of the most beautiful places any of them had ever seen. They all had seen many places on tours of duty, and where they were born, but this was indeed a place of rare beauty. For O’Brien and Jack, it reminded them of Earth; for despite being the most populous place in the known galaxy, it retained a beauty that was rarely surpassed throughout the galaxy. But this could have been Earth in its earliest days, when it was a virgin planet, clean and undefiled by human hands. Had it not been for the presence of the Bel’zar, this would have been a resort world in just a few years of its discovery.

Toney was from a planet, that while it was not ugly, couldn’t hold a candle to this. The trees, grasses, and flowers were everywhere. You almost wished you could sit down and just watch it, for a very long time. He really liked this world. Someday, when the war is over, I’d like to come back here. This will be my home. He laughed. But maybe I should learn its name first. The actual name of the planet was classified, but it was likely just a series of letters and numbers, and would stay that way until it was colonized and named.

“What’s so funny?” asked Jack.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how I’d like to come back here someday, when the war’s over.”

“If we win the war.”

“Yeah. That too.” A sobering thought; if they didn’t complete their mission, there wouldn’t even be much of a war. And they wouldn’t be there to see it. It was a do-or-die mission. “And if there’s anything left when we plow the place up.”

That got a laugh from Jack. “Yeah, that’ll be a bright spot for everyone’s day. The Bel’zar won’t be happy about it, but it’ll be bright. And they won’t have long to be unhappy.”

“That’s for sure.” They lapsed back into silence, still admiring the countryside and the beauty, but their vigilance had increased.

. . .

In the second group, Jace was reveling his audience with tales of his days with the Marines. He was telling a particularly funny one about a practical joke that was played on his sergeant during his training. “……so Sarge out in the dark, in the coldest night of the year, trying to find his boots. It had just rained, so his socks were soaked through, and he was seething mad. We all went back to bed when it started raining again and after having a good round of laughter. Then, at two in the morning, he barges into our room, glowering and dripping wet. We nearly died, holding in the laughter that threatened to burst out. He started blustering and threatening about how he’d dismember the person who had stolen his boots, and gave us a rather frightful description of his plans. But, to tell the truth, I think he actually found it rather funny.”

O’Brien laughed, but lost focus as Jace began another story. He remembered his own training; his old friends that he’d trained with, and wondered what they were doing; and how many were still alive. He’d become close to a number, and he was sure several were out fighting the Bel’zar. Just like we are. He, too, looked forward to the end of the war; he could meet old friends, see his family again. But first he had to complete this mission. Before too long, he was lost in thought.

. . .

Moore too, was deep in thought. He was concerned about this mission. Despite any confidence he might have shown on the outside, inside he had grave doubts about their ability to complete their mission. They might have been trained for impossible missions, but no training could have possibly prepared them one-hundred percent for this mission. It really was an impossible mission, and they all knew it. It was the six of them versus thousands. A half-dozen against a world. Long odds, even for them. Surprise and excellent tech would help even things, but only so far. If they could get to the objective area undetected, they stood a good chance of completing their mission, but whether they’d get out or not depended on the level of training and reaction to danger of the Bel’zar. If Bel’zar were fooled by the fake attack of earlier that day, then perhaps they could do it. Big if’s. Yet at the same time, even as he thought about the impossibility of their mission, he also knew the stakes.

Put plainly, the entire fate of humanity depended on them. If they grew lazy, complacent, or just made mistakes, billions would die. It was as simple, yet complex, as that. That’s why there was no failure. It was victory—or extinction.

He could accept that. Because if he didn’t, they didn’t stand a chance. Only by acknowledging the stakes could he fight as well as he had to. He—they—would keep fighting until their dying breath. Because nothing else mattered.

. . .

Jace was deep in another story when his comm unit beeped three times, the prearranged signal for the two groups to meet up.

“Let’s move, guys. Sarge is calling a meeting.”

They meet up in a clearing. They all removed their helmets, and stood in silence for a moment before Jace broke the silence. “So Sarge, what’s up”

“So far we’ve made good time in our travel, and traveling separately has been a good idea. But we still have a good distance to cover before we reach our objective. We should make another five klicks before nightfall. We’ll lay up for the night in a small gully about a hundred yards from a coppice. In the morning, we’ll continue. If all goes well, we’ll reach the objective in _______days time. Keep to our current travel plan. Any questions?”

Jace nodded, “What are we doing for sleeping arrangements? I mean like sleeping separately, guards, or what?”

“Well, splitting up for the night, but within reasonable distance, should work. We’ll have one guard, away from both groups. Each watch will be two hours long. Anything else?

“Yeah. What are the odds that we’ve been detected?”

“Well, if I wanted to be nice, I’d say the you’re incredible flying skills took care of any chance of detection. But as inflating your ego too far would be detrimental to the mission, I’m compelled to tell you that the chances of detection are low, but nothing we can count out completely. We landed fairly close to their base; and since we don’t fully know their sensor capabilities, it’s not unreasonable. All indications point to sensors comparable to our own. So I think that, for now, we have the element of surprise.

“Is there anything else? No? Good. Let’s roll.”

. . .
At about twenty-two hundred hours, the two groups met up for the night. They sat down together, eating rations and talking.

“Why”, asked Jack, grimacing as he munched on a ration cube. “Do they have to make these things taste so bland?”

“No idea.” said O’Brien. “They’re nutritional, sure, but little else.

“You can eat ‘em----” started Jack

“Barely.”

He flicked one at O’Brien. “---and maybe throw them at people.”

Jace laughed. “Maybe we should put a few in our ammo pouches. We can throw them at the lizards. Maybe they’ll swallow a few, and take a dirt nap.”

They all laughed.

“At the least, they might break a few teeth on them.” said Jace to more laughter. “But to answer your original question, probably because they never had to try them. Probably made new recruits test them or something. They’re small and nutritious. To a scientist, what more do they need to be?”

“We ought to make them try them out in the field. It’d serve them right.”

“Same goes for the officers who give us intel—make them go on a mission with their own intel. They’d search a bit harder if they had to rely on it themselves.” This drew another laugh.

Ration cubes might well be irrelevant to our mission, but intel was not. Soldiers lived and died based on intelligence reports, but there was more dying than living in that department, especially in the case of the Bel’zar. GEAR knew little or nothing about them, and because of that, men died. There was a running joke among soldiers that most intel officers got jobs as weathermen after they retired from the military, because they were more likely to get the weather right than they were intel. What little intel they had was very useful—they had yet to capture one of those lizards alive, but cadavers were useful too. They knew some of their weapons—both part of their body and not—and they knew the weak points of several ships, both atmospheric and space craft. The Bel’zar might not wear armor, but they’re scales served the purpose well. In order to figure out how to stun one, then needed a live captive, on which they could study their nervous system and brain centers. So they did have some information on the lizards, and it might very well save their lives. And they was grateful for what they had, despite it’s limitations. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. But they’d make do without. They always did. This was their job—and they were the best at it.


Chapter 3:

to come.........

I think its GREAT!!!
Im not a big fan of sci-fiction but this one seems interesting .
By the way how do you come up with the names of different places and charaters,eg. Par'kelnowa it sounds so cool .

I think its GREAT!!.
Im not a big fan of sci-fiction but this one sounds interesting.
By the way how do you come up with the names of different places and characters,eg:Par'kelnova sound so interseting.

i just make up something that sounds cool or weird or exotic or alien or somthing, and if i like it, i keep it. Planets are easy, names for people are no where near as easy. I need alot of names for people. Thank you though

This is great keep it up.

Fantastic story there! It sounds kinda similar to Halo in that the genetically enhanced soldiers part and the near unstoppable aliens. Would make an excellent game and story though. If you finish it I would love a copy.

Good story i like some sci-fi stuff but that looked really good.

thanks, i've updated it and added part of the first chapter,but more will probably be a long time coming i'm afraid.

Well just work on it some every day and before u know it we'll be reading chapter three and loving it

thanks, i'll try to work on it more, but i'm pretty busy with school and sports.

have you done any more to add on to it?

yes, i have updated it, and have started a blog at

http://www.siegemastersstory.wordpress.com

it no longer has genetically modified soldiers, and i added to it. enjoy!

Hey thanks for adding on to it, it's so good.

thanks, i still need to work on it. i'll update when i get done with chapter 2

yeah yeah. pester the author. i've got part, and i'll try to do more over the weekend. the part i have is actually in fan-fic in the site in my sig, and eragon's army. maybe BNM.

no, its fine. and i'll check it out.

hey kerstov, whats ur book called?

Ok, i've updated my story, now with all of Chapter 2!! Enjoy!!

awsome work seige master keep it up and take your time